Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 428: Is the Nation’s Investment Really Just About Color?

A ruler is always busy. Those who bear the duty of governing their subjects must shoulder an equivalent amount of work. No matter how much Tyrkanzyaka was a “god” and merely a figurehead, there was still a great deal she had to do. Considering her absence had lasted for over a hundred years, it was impressive that Vladimir had managed to cut it down to this level.

“The opening of the Castle of the Full Moon? This place opens to the public?”

“The Castle of the Full Moon was originally built as a fortress where vampires could live together. As our numbers grew and the lands we governed expanded, we scattered, and this became my personal domain. But what use is such a vast castle when I reside in it alone? Whenever there is a reason for vampires to gather, I offer them the guest chambers.”

Well, even if every vampire of Yeiling’s level were rounded up, it would amount to no more than 1,500. Instead of arranging separate lodgings for them, cramming them into the castle would be far more efficient.

“No one aside from the Elders will dare to ascend. There is no need to worry about unnecessary encounters.”

“I’m not particularly worried. Meeting new people sounds fun. Besides, I’ve got someone behind me.”

“I am here. Huhu. Indeed. As long as I remain in this nation, you have nothing to fear.”

“There is one thing. Tyrkanzyaka changing her mind. When affection fades, a favored concubine is treated as a spy. Wouldn’t that make me the perfect candidate?”

At that, Tyrkanzyaka put on a deliberately offended expression.

“Do you believe that I, who have lived for over a thousand years, would abandon you over something so trivial?”

“You never know. People’s hearts are unpredictable.”

“I am a vampire. I have harbored deep and dark hatred for a thousand years. Do you think the affection I hold for you will not last even a hundred?”

“The past thousand years were spent without a heartbeat or sensation, but the coming hundred years will be different. I was the one who gave you those back, after all, so I’d know better than anyone.”

“Even so, the grace of restoring my heart and senses remains. Just as I have etched my grudges into my heart, I shall repay kindness as well. That does not mean my feelings will change.”

Recalling my days at the host bar, I tightened my hold on Tyrkanzyaka’s emotions a little more. When dealing with older women, showing a hint of fear about being abandoned made them cling harder. Whether that applied to someone a thousand years older was uncertain... but fortunately, it seemed that only the fact of being older mattered, not the degree of it.

“That’s true. To repay that grace completely, I would need to restore your senses perfectly. How about it, Tyrkanzyaka? Is your shoulder feeling better?”

“Yes. It is... strangely both refreshing and ticklish at once. I find myself wanting to shrink away. Is this how it is supposed to feel?”

“That’s normal. When you’re young, your body is soft, so it tends to feel ticklish. But as you grow older and your muscles harden, being touched feels more relieving than anything.”

“Hrmm. Somehow, the ticklishness is still greater.”

“That’s just your body catching up to its age. Your shoulder’s done now. That’s all for the exposed areas.”

With the head being at the top, the restoration of sensation had to progress downward. The face, neck, shoulders, and part of the back. Tyrkanzyaka reexamined her own senses. Unlike smell and taste, the body only had touch. But since she had lost even that, she had once freely shattered and torn her own flesh. The unfamiliar sensations made her somewhat uneasy.

So that’s why Hughes kept asking if I was okay. Sensation will turn me into something entirely different from before. I will seek out more comfortable touches and more delectable tastes. Sensation is changing me, and I am becoming entangled in sensation...

But that was the end of her worries. Because, in truth, this was what Tyrkanzyaka had always desired.

Nothing lasts forever—not even the great truths that existed since the beginning of time. As the world changes, so do we, caught in its tide.

Having long grown weary of watching the world change while she remained the same, Tyrkanzyaka had, without realizing it, begun yearning for transformation. And that longing had led her to desire her heart’s revival.

She didn’t know how she would change, but she believed it would be for the better.

There is nothing to worry about. The Duchy remains, and Hughes is still by my side. If anything...

“...If anything, Hughes.”

“Yes?”

She opened her mouth as if to say something but then hesitated and turned her head away.

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“...No. It is nothing. Forget it.”

“What? You were about to say something.”

“I told you it is nothing.”

“Tyrkanzyaka. There are two ways to make a person angry. The first is stopping mid-sentence.”

Tyrkanzyaka, who had been silently listening, pressed.

“Why are you only telling me the first? What is the second?”

“If you finish what you were saying, I’ll tell you.”

“Did you fabricate that just to get me to speak? I told you—it is nothing!”

She suddenly raised her voice, resolute. I had hoped to provoke her into speaking by putting her in my shoes, but her stubbornness made it clear that words alone wouldn’t work.

I had no choice but to rely on mind-reading.

Forgive me, Tyrkanzyaka. I have no concept of privacy.

Sensation must be restored through touch. Hughes has to implant the lightning threads into me, and if a thin layer of cloth covers my skin, the effect will be significantly reduced. The fibers of the fabric will absorb the faint lightning.

Having been on the receiving end of this enough times, even Tyrkanzyaka had begun to understand the logic behind it. Divine or not, even magic becomes mere common sense once one grows used to it.

...Then, to restore sensation across my whole body, Hughes will have to run his hands over my entire form. Without a single thread of clothing between us.

Despite having no shame in revealing her heart, the habits of twelve centuries made her instinctively resistant to exposing her bare skin.

I could relate. When the physician had cut open my stomach, I hadn’t felt embarrassment—only fear. Whether vampire or human, there wasn’t much of a difference.

That is something I cannot bring myself to say. And if Hughes were to bring it up, it would be... improper. What am I to do...?

Oh. That. Yeah, I see the problem.

As a mind reader, how much the other person values something matters a lot to me. I could say that worth is determined by the other person. If there’s resistance, I won’t force it.

If there isn’t resistance? Well, lucky me.

If asked whether I dislike it... the answer is no. But this is too fast. I want to proceed more slowly, step by step, sharing words and emotions, making it meaningful. I do not wish to handle something so precious as a mere necessity.

But Tyrkanzyaka’s emotions were even more complex. There was strong reluctance, but at the same time, a yearning for someone to tear down that wall for her.

Tsk. At this point, I didn’t need to do anything more.

“Tyrkanzyaka. I think this is enough.”

“...Hm?”

“You’ve become human enough. You’re now on equal footing with me—perhaps even beyond that.”

I pulled my hands away.

“To be honest, there’s no real need to restore sensation below your neck. This is enough. As long as you can taste, smell, and feel touch, that’s everything that matters.”

Tyrkanzyaka, who had been feeling strangely giddy, suddenly had cold water dumped over her.

“...Then why did you sit me on your lap? If this was to end so quickly, there was no reason to remain like that in front of Kabilla.”

“I wanted to restore your sensation as quickly as possible.”

“Hmph. You worked in such haste. I could not even tell if my shoulders had regained their feeling.”

“And also, you’re just the right size to sit on my lap. It felt nice.”

Tyrkanzyaka scoffed but then paused for a moment. She was deliberating whether being described as small and soft, perfect for holding was a compliment or not.

But anyway, the job was done.

“This is as far as I go. If you ever want to test something else, just call for me. This method was only used to restore sensation, but its applications seem limitless.”

I massaged my stiff hands as I stepped outside.

Whew. Feels good. It was a bit exhausting, but still easier than when I revived her heart.

Back then, it might have looked effortless, but it was dangerous. I had to focus my mind-reading entirely on Tyrkanzyaka, becoming the representative of Tyrkanzyaka alone as the King of Humans. I had to imprint myself at that moment into her heart, essentially overwriting her childhood memories with my own.

It was only possible because we were in the Abyss, where no other people were around, and because Tyrkanzyaka’s body had remained frozen in time. Even so, the side effects were severe—I nearly lost my sense of self. The memory was so overwhelming that I almost became a girl myself.

...No, perhaps it was only possible because I had lost the power of the King of Humans. Representing just a single person like that—something like that is impossible for the King of Beasts.

In any case, with my current Divine Demon abilities, it was much easier than before. I didn’t even need to sync with Tyrkanzyaka’s emotions like last time since I still had cards left to play.

So, what should I do now? One task was done, but there were still others to handle. There’s no such thing as a grave without a story.

I had already found the one who killed Ruskinia, but I still had questions about the bigger picture.

Lir Nightingale, who inherited the True Blood, was from Yeiling. Naturally, someone had to turn her into a vampire—and that was Ruskinia’s Ain. Her identity? Lily, Lir’s mother.

But Lily had been executed. For the crime of desertion.

Something about that didn’t sit right. An Elder was alive and well, yet their Ain ran away?

Ruskinia’s Ain, Jazra, had said that Lir had broken free from her shackles. The way she pleaded for me to kill Lir... It wasn’t just anger over the death of her master. There was something else mixed in.

She died too quickly—I didn’t get to read all of her thoughts. A real shame.

The dead don’t just stop talking. They stop thinking.

If there’s something I, a mind reader, can’t figure out about human affairs, the answer is likely hidden with the dead.

I descended a floor from Tyrkanzyaka’s chambers and turned toward the presence following behind me.

“Count Erthe.”

“You called for me.”

“Is there anyone among the late Ruskinia’s Ains that I might be able to meet?”

The Crimson Duke’s watchdog looked slightly troubled by my unexpected request.

But Count Erthe was an Ain, and the orders of the Crimson Duke were absolute.

No matter what I asked, Count Erthe had no choice but to comply.

Even if it was an incredibly dangerous move.